Teen Wolf One Shots and Imagines
by 753demigodwarlock
Summary: Just some one shots, headcannons, and imagines either requested from here or ocasionaly on tumblr.


**Please tell me what you think and write a review and feel free to request anything**

Propmt: Scott gets bitten, but does not tell Stiles, Stiles will start to notice some things different about Scott, an immense new musculature and also increased Junk, That Stiles start to wonder what happen to His best friend to cause such change overnight, But he ends up forgetting about it, because of the Anniversary, of his beloved mom death, coming , comes that day, he goes to the cemetery with very beautiful flowers, and starts Crying, sobbing, because he misses her so much, when suddenly a wolf out Scott, massive werewolf, arrives and takes him in his arms, holding him tight and comforting him, next Issac also arrives and both reveal that they are werewolves , and Stiles their Anchor , Introducing him into the pack, and Deaton ending up training him and his spark , to becoming the pack emissary

Pairing: Scott x Stiles (brotp/frienship not romantic)

Word Count: 3,046

Requested: Yes, by orionastro

Notes: Didn't include Isaac because it didn't fit with the timeline sorry. But I hope you liked it.

This is in season one so the pack thing may be a little iffy.

* * *

Stiles knew there was something wrong with Scott. You couldn't call yourself someone's best friend and not know when something had changed. After all, he had known when Scott first started experiencing asthma attacks when they were 10, he had known when Scott had developed his first real crush on a girl in their 5th grade class named Jessica, he had known when Scott first realized that his parents' marriage was falling apart. Stiles had known that Scott's life had turned upside down and that he was never going to be the same Scott because of all those experiences. And, just like then, Stiles was determined to help get his best friend through the tough time. But unlike those other times, Scott hadn't told Stiles that something had changed. In fact, it felt to Stiles like Scott was hiding something from him. And, like with any mystery, Stiles would stop at nothing to uncover Scott's secret and figure out exactly what was wrong with Scott McCall.

"Hey where were you last night?" Stiles asked Scott once he finally caught to him in the school halls.

Scott jumped in surprise. "I-I nothing, um, I mean nowhere." When Stiles gave him a disbelieving glare Scott stuttered out a different answer. "Home."

"But I called your Mom and she said you weren't home." This wasn't true. Stiles knew Ms. McCall was working the night shift so he didn't call to bother her probably much needed rest.

"Ugh right 'cause, um, I was at home for a little bit then I left . . . to take . . . a . . . walk?" Scott's voice had gone high and squeaky on the word 'walk' making it sound like a question rather than a statement. He was such a bad liar.

"Right," Stiles said, obviously not convinced by Scott's answer. "SO, are you excited for lacrosse try outs?"

"Hm?" Scott asked as he grabbed the lock on his locker. He focused intently on the numbers of his combination. _18 . . ._

"What do you mean _hm?_ This is the only thing we have been talking about for _weeks_ ," Stiles said, waving his hands animatedly in the air.

"I guess . . .," Scott mumbled. _32 . . ._

Stiles slammed his hands on the locker next to Scott's. Scott jumped in surprise and missed the third number to his combination. He shot a quick glare at Stiles and started to redial his combination. " _I guess_? _I guess_?!" Stiles exclaimed in disbelief. "What happened to, 'I know i'll make the team, I can feel it'?"

Scott opened his locker and grabbed his economy and math book from it. "That was you, Stiles. You're the one who dragged me to all those extra practices."

"Okay, I admit I had most-"

Scott raised his eyebrows and gave Stiles a knowing look.

"-okay, all the enthusiasm, but we've been trying to make the lacrosse team for _years_ ," Stiles said. "It's been our passion."

"Stiles, I didn't even like lacrosse until you forced me to try it out with you," Scott pointed out.

"Scott, you promised," Stiles said, his voice softer and more sincere this time.

"Fine, yes, I'm excited for lacrosse try outs," Scott finally gave in.

Stiles beamed and started lugging his friend after him as he walked the halls once Scott closed his locker. "Good. Now, I heard a rumor that in Ms. Grace's English class she was giving us a book to read by tomorrow! Do you think it's true? I mean i know English is brutal but-" Stiles was cut off by the ringing of the 10 minute bell. Stiles seemed unbothered by it, after all he had been hearing a similar sound for almost 8 years now, but Scott gasped in shock and covered his ears, dropping his books in the process. His eyes squeezed shut and he ran into a locker from the shock. Instead of moving away from the locker, Scott pressed his head harder against the cool metal of the locker, trying to seek a way to block the shrill noise from his ears.

Stiles quickly picked up Scott's discarded books and ran to Scott's side. He wrapped a hand around Scott's shoulders and tried to block him from other people's view as best as he could. He chuckled nervously at the students who looked at them weirdly. "Nothing to worry about," he said, trying not to make his growing worry evident, "just, you know, a bad migraine. Darn you bright, fluorescent lights." When enough people had stopped staring, Stiles turned back to his friends. "Hey, Scotty, you okay, man?" Stiles asked.

Scott pushed away from the locker and tried to regain his composure, but his face was still twisted in a grimace of pain. "Yeah, I'm fine. Those bells are just louder than usual."

Stiles frowned suspiciously at Scott but shrugged after some time, going back to the care free Stiles Scott was used to. "Yeah, I guess. Come on, let's get to class."

* * *

Something was definitely wrong with Scott.

First, he almost collapses on the floor when the bell rings, he predicted that someone was going to enter our classroom, he starts doing things before they people ask him to, and now he's a lacrosse star.

All Stiles could do was stare at his best friend as he made his way across the lacrosse field and scored yet another point. Scott pushed past a crowd of guys who were patting his back and cheering him on and made his way to where Stiles was sitting on the bench.

"Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?" was the first thing Stiles said to Scott.

"Haha, very funny, Stiles," Scott said nervously.

"I thought you didn't feel that passionately about playing lacrosse," Stiles said.

"I guess the extra practice really paid off," Scott said with shrug.

Stiles leaned closer to Scott and lowered his voice ominously. "You're not taking steriods, are you?"

Scott blinked and quickly shook his head. "What? No!"

"You don't need to be ashamed about it, buddy. I understand, what with your awful playing, but I can help you go cold turkey-"

"Stiles."

"-Or we could always lower the amount you take, you know take off bit by bit-"

"Stiles."

"-I know this really nice rehab place not to far from here-"

"Stiles I am not taking drugs!" Scott hissed.

"So you just expect me to believe that you became a lacrosse star overnight," Stiles asked skeptically.

"I mean yeah . . ," Scott replied.

"Hm," Stiles sounded unconvinced. "Hey did you find anything in the woods?"

"Woods?" Scott asked nervously. "What woods?"

Stiles gave him a weird look. "The woods I asked you to search the dead body for."

"Oh . . . right, those wood," Scott laughed nervously. Two nights ago, Stiles had caught wind from one of the police radios that a dead body had been found in the woods surrounding Beacon Hills. Not only was it strange to find a dead body, after all, Beacon Hills was a relatively peaceful place, it hadn't been a full dead body, it was only the top half of a human body. Stiles had tried to sneak out to go over to Scott's house and persuade him to go with him to the woods to investigate, but had gotten caught by his dad, the Sheriff. So Stiles had called Scott and told him to go by himself to the woods to try to catch a glimpse of the corpse for him. Of course, Scott had protested, but after a lot of arguing with Stiles, he reluctantly obliged. He did find the body and he had also been attacked by something that looked an awful lot like a wolf. It had bitten him in the side. Scott had managed to bandage himself up okay and had taken some pills for the pain, all without his mom knowing. When he had taken the bandage up to re-clean the wound and apply fresh bandages, the bite had miraculously healed itself and after sometime stopped hurting. Scott had thought it was strange and was about to call Stiles to tell him when he realized that he could hear his mom on the phone. He remembered thinking that was strange because when he looked out the hall, his mom wasn't there. In fact, his mom was in the car outside. There was no way he should have been able to hear her, but he could. And as the day went on he realized that he could do a lot of strange things. He could smell the peppermint candy in his mom's pants pocket in the bottom of a pile of dirty clothes (which was horrendously overwhelming), he could hear the rustling of the duster being used in the house next to theirs, and when he was trying to hammer a loose nail in the windowsill, he had not only succeeded in getting the nail in place but also in cracking the wood from hitting it too hard. By the time Scott had gotten to school he had decided that maybe it would be best to not include Stiles into this until he got this all sorted out. Whatever it was.

"Yeah I did it," Scott admitted.

"Was it cool?" Stiles asked excitedly.

"No, Stiles, of course it wasn't!" Scott exclaimed.

"Did you at least take a picture?" Stiles huffed.

"No, what if I got arrested or something?" he said.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Trust me, Scott. You would not be a suspect."

Somehow Scott doubted that was meant to be a compliment.

"Hey do you want to come over today after school?" Stiles asked. "You could teach me some of those cool moves." He moved his arms and head around like he was dodging ghost hits.

Scott quickly shook his head and averted his eyes, looking anywhere but right at Stiles. "Um sorry I'm gonna be busy." He knew it wasn't the best cover story but he had to make up an excuse to not go. It's not that he didn't want to hang out with Stiles, he did, but he had to do some research and figure out what the heck was wrong with him.

Stiles frowned. "You sure? Dad's out so it'll only be us."

Before Scott could answer, Coach blew his whistle and called for the trainees to get on the field. Scott quickly ran off to the field to avoid answering the question.

* * *

Stiles sat in his room staring at his phone as he replayed the video he had his dad take of Scott at one of his games. He had said it was to go over Scott's strengths and weaknesses together, but Stiles was really using it to get evidence. For the past couple days Stiles has been compiling notes on Scott's strange behavior, trying to find out what Scott was hiding. So far he got that Scott had become stronger than before, he could run faster, he didn't seem to have asthma anymore, which Stiles knew was a drastic change, before Scott could barely run to his house without needing his inhaler (okay maybe he was overreacting but still). And Scott refused to hang out with him as often as before. He made up excuses about school but Stiles had the same classes as Scott and there was no way Scott was starting his English essay early. And why was he spending so much time at the animal shelter? It might be a cool job but not job was so great that he would spend every weekend there when he didn't need to work. And what about all these crazy murders going on? Stiles wasn't sure how yet but he had a feeling that somehow Scott was tied to them. But how?

Stiles sighed and flopped down on his head, face covered by his hands. This was all so confusing and it was making his head hurt. But if he didn't work on something he would start thinking to himself, and that was dangerous, especially today on the anniversary of his mom's death. Stiles was home alone, his dad was working late at the station and Scott hadn't called, which was unusual because he made sure to call every year on this day. He abandoned the notebook he had his notes on and got up from his bed. He put on a thin jacket, grabbed his car keys, house keys, and a small bouquet of flowers, and left the house. He got into Roscoe and after carefully laying the flowers on the passenger seat he drove to the Beacon Hills cemetery where his mom was buried. Once he arrived Stiles got out of the jeep and, with flowers in hand, he walked the familiar path to his mom's grave. It didn't matter that it was dark out, he had been walking this path for almost seven years now, he could walk it blindfolded. He got to the familiar plaque and sat down in front of it and placed the flowers he brought next to her name engraved in the plaque, replacing the old, withered flowers already there. He sat there and talked to her, as he had done many times after she died. He told her about everything and anything; grades, his dad, their financial problem, Roscoe, Scott, the weird things happening in Beacon Hills, and most of all, how much he missed her. But the time he had finished, tears were flowing freely down his face.

"Everything is just so . . . different now," Stiles whispered. "It feels like there is something big going on but I don't know what it is. I wish things could be simple again. I wish Scott would tell me what's going with him. I wish I could help, but I can't. And . . . I wish-I wish you were still here, you'd know what to do. I miss you so much, Mom." He hugged his knees to his chest and tried to stop the sobs that were shaking his body. He was so absorbed in his crying that he didn't notice a figure that had emerged from the shadows. Scott had been outside Stiles' house and when Stiles left, he had followed him and hid. Now, he stepped closer to Stiles and, in his worry for his best friend, seemed to forget the fact that he was still in his werewolf form.

"Don't cry," Scott said gently from beside his best friend.

Stiles was shocked to hear Scott's voice in the otherwise silent cemetery. His head whipped up and his dark eyes met the glowing amber ones of Scott. Stiles gasped and quickly stood up so that he was facing Scott. Or at least he thought it was Scott. It looked like him but with more hair and glowing eyes and claws. "Scott? Is that you?" he asked in disbelief.

Scott nodded silently. His glowing eyes watched Stiles' every move warily, scared that he might run away or try to fight him. "Please don't freak out," he whispered. He tried to keep the tremor of fear and panic out of his voice but his nervousness showed in the clasping and unclasping of his hands and in the way his eyes moved back and forth between the floor, his clawed hands, and Stiles' tear stained face.

"You're a werewolf?" Stiles mumbled in disbelief.

"Yeah. I would have told you but I didn't want to get you tied up in this mess," Scott said.

"My best friend is a werewolf," Stiles whispered to himself, voice now laced with awe.

"You're not scared or freaked out or disgusted or something?" Scott asked, surprised.

Stiles wiped away some tears that still lingered on his pale cheeks and shook his head with a small smile. "Of course not, this is awesome." He frowned and raised his eyebrows furrowed. "But why are you here? I'm guessing it's not just to tell me."

Scott shook his head. "No. I came because, you know, today is that day. I couldn't just leave you alone. Not today. Werewolf or not, I'm still your best friend. I'm supposed to be there for you when you're feeling down and I've been a pretty sucky best friend lately, no way was I gonna do that now."

"I'm fine," Stiles insisted.

"Stiles, don't give me that bullshit," Scott turned to Claudia's grave and bowed his head respectively, "sorry, Mrs Stilinski." She always reprimanded the boys when they said a foul word. He turned back to Stiles. "I can smell your grief."

Stiles decided to ask about that later. "Okay, I'm better now. Really, you help."

Scott smiled slightly and he morphed out of werewolf form. He pointed to a spot on the floor next to Stiles. "Can I sit here with you?"

Stiles' smile matched Scott and he nodded. "Yeah."

The two teenage boys sat down and they started talking. Scott greeted Claudia and apologized for not visiting and he told her about school and how his mom was doing, similar to what he had done when Scott and Stiles sat at the dining table when they were taking a break from playing and where eating the snacks Claudia had made for them. When it got colder, Stiles and Scott said goodbye to her grave and walked back to Roscoe. On the way back to Stiles' house, Scott explained his werewolf dilemma as best as he could.

"So does this mean you eat raw meat now?" Stiles asked jokingly. He yelped when Scott hit him on the shoulder.

* * *

Eventually, Stiles became fully invested in the supernatural drama in Beacon Hills and he met what he liked to call, "the pack". There was Allison Argent, the new girl who was from a family of werewolf hunters and who Scott definitely had a crush on, Lydia Martin, who Stiles already knew (since he had a crush on her for a long time now) but didn't know that she was a banshee, and Isaac Lahey, who was a beta werewolf who was formerly from Derek Hale's pack, who was another werewolf. And now it included him. He started training with Deaton, Scott's boss, to be the pack emissary. As Scott's best friend and his anchor, he stood by him through thick and thin and was there for Scott and the pack when he needed him, just like Scott was there for Stiles


End file.
